


Ash Memories

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-21
Updated: 2004-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6440212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 'You're Welcome' Wesley reflects on a mistake</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ash Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

**Ash Memories**

 

You sit at your disk, replaying the day. Scorching yourself by repeatedly grabbing at the same mistake, branding it into your mind. Words of your father echo in your ears, coward. And you think you are. So you pull out the memory again, and let it burn.

 

*****

 

You're at the cemetery, the sky dangerously low, the clouds seeming heavy with unshed tears. Why won't it just rain? Why won't the tears just come? It seems too dark; the world weighed down without her to lift up its spirit. You don't see it as a gift, you don't think of Angel. You don't remember the sun. You only thinks of those damn clouds, they feel like they will never lift.

So many people. Where did they all come from? They don't seem to notice the clouds, they just watch in silence as her body is placed in the ground. They cry. You don't. You think you should. You think of the Cordelia you first met in the Sunnydale High library. That's not the same girl you are burying now. You don't know where that girl went. You think of your last day with her, kicking it old school. The rain refuses to fall. 

A late comer, she pushes her way to the front, looking of travel and impatience. And she is in Angel's arms, her savior, and she tries to save him as she holds him tightly. Reminding him that she still believes in him. Angel cries. She doesn't but her dark eyes have lost some sparkle, her trademark Cheshire grin is no where to be seen. You think she looks like hope that has been smashed. You turn away.

You know she came to see Angel. You wonder why Buffy didn't come. You wonder if there is a problem with the new council. You wonder if Faith misses Cordelia or if she is just looking for a reason to come back. Too late. You realize she is beside you. She smiles softly as if she can snatch the very thoughts from your head.

She turns back to the service and you do the same. She doesn't cry. Neither do you. They finally lower the casket, the clods of dirt sound of hell. The ring too loud, too final, too simple an end for such an extraordinary person. And you don't know how but your hand is in hers. Her skin is soft, yet they are hands that have seen work, not pampered hands. They feel honest. 

 

*****

 

And you pour yourself another brandy as you think of the moment when the crowd disbanded and you let go of her hand. The first drops of rain finally begin to fall, plopping in fat dollops to the earth. You wait for it to wash away the mistake, to drown the fire, to erase the moment you let her go.

 

The End


End file.
